The Color of Change
by done.with.marblesxx
Summary: It is just a color, but like a plant turning a new leaf, it's the beginning. And James knows. Fourshot.
1. The Green which was Sickly

**Prologue**

What changed your life? For most young witches and wizards, it's their Hogwarts letter, their acceptance to this school they had heard so much about or never heard of. For some, it's a certain tune, a line of music that altered their life. Maybe a sound or a smell, something _completely_ normal and even dull, made special according to circumstances.

Me? What changed _my _life? Looking back to it, I realize it's a color. A simple color that we see almost everyday. The color called _green_.

Green can stand for so many things: lavishness, envy, sickness. It can stand for happiness or horror. For me, it spells out a beginning. Doesn't matter good or bad, it's just a beginning. Sometimes it brought me joy, but other times, it brought me sorrow and pain. I suppose you can't exactly choose. It's just a matter of perspective.

That _startling, _amazing, full green. And it's the beginning.

* * *

**The Green which was Sickly**

_March 27, 1960  
_

Shriek. Laughter. Noise. Repeat.

Confusion. Chaos. Crying. Repeat.

I'm flailing. Can't settle. Worried tones. Questions of sickness.

"_James will be a healthy, active boy!_"

Denial. Sorrow. Hysterical. Confusion.

"I don't know, Mrs. Potter, he doesn't seem to be very healthy. Look at his skin, it's tinted purple."

More screams. More crying. More protests. More confusion.

"_Do something then! You're a Healer!_"

A shriek from a mother. A moan from a father. A cry from a baby. A sigh from a Healer.

Then quiet sobs. In my mouth is a bottle. Vile stuff. Spit it out.

"No, no, baby, you have to drink the whole thing."

Splutters. Protesting cries. Shaking of heads. Groan from the Healer.

"Hold his head, please, Mr. Potter. Without this potion, I don't know ifhe'll survive."

Great force. No more movement. Calmer? Certainly not. Just restrained.

"There, there, James, we're done now. Good! There!"

Splutter. Opening of eyes. I caught a glimpse. The potion. _Brilliant green_.

"Let him rest, he'll surely recover after this."

Darkness. Eyes close. Gentle breathing. Sleep.


	2. A Most Startling Green

**A Most Startling Green, Derived from the Emeralds**

_September 1, 1974  
_

The train was still, but ready for the toot that would start the wheels and send the big thing to the school filled with magic and wonders. There were clusters of happy students and worried parents all around the platform, fussing, yelling, laughing. With a yawn, I started forward, tugging along my cart which had my owl settled upon it. Being in fourth year didn't mean you were the King of the School, but it _did _indicate a higher position than the little first, second and third years.

I was minding my own business, hurrying along, when from the behind, someone embraced me, in a very tight hug too.

"_Mmphf!_" I cried in a strained tone, trying to pull the terribly strong arms off me. I looked back and there stood my best mate, Sirius Black, giving me one of his signature Hugs of Death.

"James!" he cried out delightfully, squeezing me ever so tighter.

"_Sirius_," I groaned back, barely able to choke out the words. "Could- Could you let me go?"

Sirius, suddenly observing that he was suffocating me, let go immediately, so that I almost collapsed onto the cobble stones under my feet. I scowled, brushed off my clothing to remove the invisible Dust of Sirius, and grabbed my cart again.

"How was your summer then, mate?" Sirius inquired real casually as I pushed my cart along.

"Real fine," I answered stiffly, annoyed that he'd almost thrown me to the floor. "The same stuff, you know."

"Squandering your time and money on useless subjects?"

I gave him a look. "I do not _squander_ my time and money on anything. I'm just- just merely _trying out_ new things," I protested with a frown. "What did _you _do?"

"Just got my mother in bad humor," Sirius replied with a shrug. "If she ever _was _in good humor, that is."

I smirked, knowing his words to be true. Poor Sirius with his scary mum.

"So where's Remus? Peter?" I questioned, glancing around for the two familiar faces.

"Probably frolicking around in the daisies again," answered Sirius sarcastically. I shot him a look. "Okay, _fine_, I actually have no idea."

I sighed, ruffling my hair, the little habit of mine. "I hope Remus got the letter I wrote him because I asked him to bring–" I cut off my sentence with a little gasp.

"What? You asked him to bring _what_?" Sirius inquired, raising his eyebrows. "What are you _looking_ at?"

It was like a miracle. The crowd of people just seemed to _part_ to allow me to catch a glimpse, just a little glimpse of those startling eyes.

They weren't a normal shade of bland green like everyone else's. They were like _diamonds_– no, no– _emeralds_. Two startling, lovely, _expressive_ emeralds, replaced that girl's eyes. They were the perfect shade of green. I never knew such a color existed. I could only gape and stare, stammering to myself.

"_James Potter!_" Sirius roared into my ear. I immediately jumped and turned to glare at him, losing the sight of those green orbs.

"Sirius! You made me lose what I was looking at!" I scolded, my brows knitted in anger.

"What _were _you looking at?" Sirius questioned with a sigh, not showing any remorse. So much for good mates then.

"I- I– A pair of eyes," I whispered, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of that startling shade of green.

"You were looking at someone's eyes?" Sirius repeated dumbly, not knowing what to say.

"Yes, and they were so beautiful," I gasped, witless.

"What if they were a bloke's eyes?" asked Sirius with a sly grin. "What will you do then?"

I bared my teeth and smacked him in the arm, shoving him away as he laughed. "Oh, shut up! They were a girl's eyes, okay? Not a bloke, a _girl_. Now bug off."

"But James–" Sirius whined, tugging on my sleeve. I pushed him off with a grimace. "Sorry, okay? _Sorry_."

"Fine, fine, I forgive you," I sighed, cursing myself for being so tolerable of his sins.

I forgot Sirius' wrongs easily, but I soon found that it was impossible to do the same with those orbs of the most perfect shade of green.


	3. Perfect Shade, Identical and Lovely

**Perfect Shade, Identical and Lovely**

_July 31, 1980  
_

I paced back and forth, back and forth. Some people were peering at me discreetly from the corners of their eyes, clearly disapproving, wanting me to stop the dizzy circular motion, but I ignored them. I found it crazy that they wanted me to calm down, take a seat, and forget about it for a little while. Okay, was marriage a new concept? Who in their right minds would "take a seat and forget about it" while their wives were screaming out in pain? Maybe a cruel, heartless warlock, but not James Potter. Oh, _no_, I was quite worried about my wife.

The witch that sat behind the reception desk was starting to look a bit miffed, biting her lips, staring at me with her cold blue-gray eyes, flipping through her magazine quite aggressively. I ignored her and continued pacing, my feet making a clack-clack sound as they collided with the marble floor.

Suddenly, the witch interrupted my nervous movement and said, "Mr. Potter, to Room 249. _Please_." She added a last bit as plea, begging me to get out her little waiting area and take my pacing with me. I gladly did so and quickly left the area, hunting for the room with the bold inscriptions on the door of 2, 4, and 9. I soon found it and pushed the door open in agitation, peeking in carefully at first.

In the room was a simple bed, clad with white sheets that looked cool and comfortable. _My _Lily lay in the covers, her red hair matted to her white skin, due to the sweat that had been pouring out of her. She had a little bundle in her arms and she was gazing at it lovingly, occasionally cooing with delight.

"Lily?" I breathed, my mouth suddenly dry. She looked up with a weak smile, her eyes glittering with happiness.

"Come see, James," she invited warmly, gesturing to me in welcome. I approached her slowly, feeling more like a child seeing his sibling for the first time, rather than a father seeing his child. I felt shy and uncertain, not knowing what this baby was going to be like.

"Here," Lily murmured as I stood by her. She started handing me the bundle, but I shook my head and waved my hands, worried that I might commit the sin of dropping the baby.

"But Lily–" I started to protest, but Lily would have none of it. She glared at me until I extended my arms and she laid the baby onto them.

"Now look," she ordered stiffly, lying back onto the headboard in exhaustion. I followed her orders.

I peeked into the little swaddle of cloth and there was a little pink baby with great tuffs of jet-black hair, squinting up at me uncertainly. He looked nervous as well, as if wondering, "Will my father like me?" I grinned widely and gently touched the baby's nose in awe. It was so tiny.

Then the baby opened his eyes slowly as if not knowing how. He looked up at me with his eyes. A jolt of electricity shot through my entire body. 

_Those eyes were the same as Lily's_.

"His- His eyes–" I stammered, looking back at Lily. She smiled, her lips stretched in a lovely expression.

"He looks just like you already, excluding the eyes of course," Lily added the last bit with a firm nod. I smiled at her and the baby in complete wonder.

Those eyes were _perfect_. They were Lily's eyes. It was as if someone had duplicated my wife's eyes and put them in for my son's. I loved it. Just simply, amazingly _loved _it.

"Harry James Potter?" I murmured.

"Harry James Potter," Lily confirmed with a nod. The baby squealed.


	4. Last Glance of Green

**Last Glance of Green**

_October 31, 1981  
_

"Harry looks tired," I remarked with a gentle smile. My little son was curled up on the couch between Lily and I, face pressed up against his mother's lap. Lily, with a maternal smile, quietly stroked his messy hair in loving rhythm. I smiled at them both, feeling blessed even during the raging war against the darkness.

"We should put him to bed," Lily murmured softly, not wanting to wake the little angel. She planted a gentle kiss on the boy's cheek, her red hair sliding over Harry's black, providing a sharp contrast.

"Poor boy, all that wrestling with the broom left him exhausted," I muttered with a grin, pleased that my son was fond of a broomstick as me.

"Well, Mr. Potter," Lily said with a little quirk of her brow. "Carry him up to the nursery then."

"As you wish, Mrs. Potter," I answered with a wide grin. "Your wish is my command."

"It better be," she uttered under her breath.

I leaned over little Harry and with a grunt, lifted his body and slung him over my shoulder like a little sack of potatoes. I started towards the stairs with Lily behind me, flickering off all the lights when suddenly, our tranquil contentedness was interrupted with a loud bang.

"_James!_" Lily breathed, her voice full with worry, the emerald eyes wide with fright. We stood stock still for a moment, our ears twitching for just a hint of a sound. A wisp of silence passed by before I heard a little click from the backdoor.

"Run Lily! It's _him_!" I bellowed, not caring how loud I was. "Take Harry and _run!_"

She looked bewildered and I was afraid she would lose her wits, but she grabbed Harry from my shoulders and rushed up the stairs, not having any other place to run to. Just before she disappeared from my view, I whispered a quiet "I love you." I knew it would be my last.

I pulled out my wand from my pocket and gripped it tightly. I could feel every fiber of the wood between my fingers. I stood still, waiting for the Voldemort to come to me. And he came.

"James Potter," the cold, metallic voice hissed.

"Voldemort," I answered back confidently, when in reality, I did not feel confident at all.

Without another pathetic waste of breath, he shot a spell towards my direction. The green told me it was the Killing Curse. He wasn't wanting any torture today; he wanted to kill, and only kill.

"_Protego!_" I roared as if the Shield Charm could protect me. I knew it couldn't, but it was good to try. Voldemort, however, wasn't in the mood. He pulled himself up to full height and with a last snarl, he hissed:

"_Avada Kedavra_."

The last thing that filled my eyes was that sinister, eerie green, wrapping around my line of vision and soon, would pronounce me dead.

**Fin.**


End file.
